


Jewel Green

by Anonymous



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Super Sons (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:01:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23259607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Jon had never been interested in the slaves, until one caught his eye.Or: Jon is a favored son at the palace. For once, he lets temptation get to him.
Relationships: Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne
Comments: 7
Kudos: 194
Collections: Anonymous





	Jewel Green

Jon had never been interested in the slaves – until he saw him.

On scuffed knees for one of the courtiers, his eyes closed so his thick lashes kissed his cheeks. The thin fabric of his teal slip glimmered over smooth, golden-brown thighs. The courtier’s hand was in the slave’s hair, pale against the dark strands, and he was thrusting his hips gently so his cock slid, shiny and wet, against the flushed pink of the slave’s lips. His grunts echoed through the pleasure chamber.

All of a sudden the courtier stopped and groaned, throwing his head back, and Jon watched the slave’s throat work as he swallowed, before the cock slipped from his ruined mouth. He took a few deep breaths, and the courtier grasped his chin before rubbing his still half-hard cock across his cheek and mouth, leaving wet trails. 

Jon hurried away, taking the dim staircases meant for the servants so no one would see his...state. 

The slave’s name, he found out, was Damian. He’d been captured during the battle six months ago with one of the southern kingdoms – the late King Wayne’s son, apparently.

Jon couldn’t think of anything but the boy – man, really, he looked a bit older than Jon – for the next two days. He squirmed during court hearings. He was distracted during a banquet and nearly spilled a drink all over Kara’s dress. At night he fisted his cock, unable to find relief even after coming twice, his mind filled with images of that lithe, strong figure. 

He called Damian into his chambers the next evening. 

Damian was even more beautiful up close, his skin decorated by thin pale scars, his mouth the shape of a bent bow, a defiant jut to his jaw even as he stood silently, awaiting instructions. 

Jon drank in the sight hungrily, his gaze landing on Damian’s bare feet – an oddly vulnerable look. He had never been so enamoured with a slave – with anyone. 

“I’m sure you didn’t call me up here to stare at me,” Damian sniped. His accent was unexpected, a blend of the southern twang with the lilt of the middle kingdoms. 

Jon chuckled. “You thought right.”

He stepped forward, grasped Damian’s face in his hands and kissed him, open-mouthed; he tasted something like rosewater and mint. “Fuck,” breathed Jon. “You’re so gorgeous. _Fuck_.” He ran his hand down Damian’s chest, still devouring his plump, pretty lips, tweaking a dusky nipple, and Damian let out a surprised moan. Jon bent down to suck the sweet nub into his mouth, feeling it harden beneath his teeth and tongue. He worried at it, and Damian squirmed, gasping, and Jon abandoned it in favour of the other.

He planted sloppy kisses down Damian’s firm belly, pausing at the waist to undo his slip, and then he was fisting his cock, thick and veined and gorgeous. He kissed the tip, licking the salt off his lips, and then got up. “Bed,” he rasped.

Jon sat on his knees while Damian knelt, a flush to those brown cheeks. Jon couldn’t help but run his fingers through those black curls. He imagined doing this every night, coming to his chambers to this stunning creature. 

He fed Damian his cock inch by inch and began to fuck his mouth at a leisurely pace. Damian’s eyes fluttered and Jon felt a rush of possessiveness; his cock should be the only one ever sliding between those lips. Damian’s mouth was warm and wet, his velvet tongue lapping at the underside of his cock. “I could fuck you all day,” Jon says huskily, letting Damian tease him by sucking only around the head. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

He gripped Damian’s head and pushed his cock in all the way, feeling Damian’s throat constrict around it. Damian gagged and struggled a bit, his face screwing up, but Jon held him there, gently thrusting. “That’s it, that’s good, hold it for me there, you feel so good, so perfect.”

He can’t deny it’s a bit of a power trip – Bruce Wayne’s spitfire of a son with Jon’s cock in his mouth, saliva and precum glistening on his lips and dribbling down his chin. 

Jon pulls out and pushes at Damian’s chest so he is lying on his back. “Tell me,” he says, getting between Damian’s legs and stroking his cock, “how many men here have fucked you?”

Damian’s eyes are sharp. “I seem to be...in demand.” 

Jon hums and pulls a bottle of oil from his drawer. “And how do they take you? One at a time? Two, three?”

“Usually one or two. But there have been up to five.”

Jon’s cock _ached_. As much as he wanted Damian to himself, he couldn’t deny the appeal of the image. He slid a finger coated with oil into him, then another, scissoring. Damian barely reacted save by biting his lip.

It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough, but Jon lined up his cock anyway, pushing in, both of them gasping. Damian was so tight, so hot, his walls clenching and fluttering around him. 

“God,” breathed Jon when he bottomed out. He just stayed that way for a while, enjoying the tease of the pressure without movement. “God, you’re meant for this. You’re meant to be laid out and fucked till you can’t talk, till your eyes are rolling back in your head.”

“Careful, prince,” said Damian, bristling. “I was – ”

He cried out, eyes flying wide open, when Jon thrust hard, once. “Yes,” said Jon, setting a steady, purposeful pace. “You’re meant to have my cock in you, always. I should keep you beneath my desk, your mouth around me – a little cock warmer. And at night, we can sleep with my cock buried in your ass. I’ll wake up with you still around me; every morning I’ll come inside you and you can keep it plugged in till the day is done.” 

Damian was crying out every time Jon thrust, little _ah, ah, ahs_ filling the air. 

“Maybe one day I’ll do nothing but fuck you, keep my come in you till your belly swells. Would you like that? To be round and swollen with my come, like you’re pregnant?”

Damian shook his head, tears clinging to his lashes, and he was so beautiful that Jon leaned down and licked the tears off.

“I should lean you naked over the balcony,” Jon whispered. “In broad daylight, in front of a crowd. Fuck you there so everyone knows you’re mine. Maybe I’ll let them get a taste of you, just so they know what I have to myself, all the time.”

He gave one last thrust and came in hot spurts, Damian whimpering as he felt it filling him. 

“This is your life, prince,” Jon said, brushing the hair from Damian’s forehead. “I’ll take such good care of you.” 


End file.
